Wanderings
by Suekeiichi Kaiton
Summary: This is a rewrite of 'The Wandering Saotome' which starts from scratch. This is the new prologue which starts off the story fresh and new with distinct differences and new plot twists. If people like this I'll continue it, if not...
1. Prologue

---Disclaimer---  
  
Ranma 1/2 and all its associated characters and locations are used without permission and belong to their respective copyright holders. Anything else (Teh Sthlhu, The Four Empires, Typhon Sidhe, Ceoeff, Merac, Hiwt, etc.) is owned by me. So there! ^_^  
  
---  
  
"...And out of Darkness came Light;  
A warrior of might midst the plight;  
'Round his head was a crown  
Made of purest gold,  
And polished like mirror-glass.  
(Or so I've been told)  
He rode on a ship high in the sky,  
And there was no wave he could not ply,  
Onward he rushed to his Doom.  
  
The Enemy did turn  
And cowered like a worm  
As the King returned   
to the place of his birth.  
For through Death   
and hardship he'd proved  
His honor,  
And courage,  
And worth.  
  
High in the hills,  
And low in the seas  
Did their battle rage on  
'Till all their strength   
had been gutted and gone.  
Out of the sea he did rise,  
Sun on his shoulders,  
And Stars in his eyes.  
He had dispelled the gloom."  
-From the 'Warrior' manuscript  
  
---Title---  
  
Wanderings  
(Rewrite of The Wandering Saotome)  
A Ranma 1/2 Altaverse  
By Dr. Suekeiichi Kaiton  
(Skaiton@netscape.net)  
  
---China---  
  
"Well? What are you waiting for boy, get in there and learn a new technique!" Genma Saotome nudged his twelve-year old son, Ranma closer to the gaping cave entrance. Somehow they had managed to elude the band of villagers pursuing them and made it up a steep mountain to their destination. Little Ranma whimpered as a harsh wind seemed to blow from deep inside.  
  
Genma had discovered the cave while flipping through a manual on ancient, forbidden training grounds. The article had mentioned that anyone sent into the cave would return wielding either power or death, for his sake he hoped that Ranma returned strong and not dead. Still, if the legend of the glowing warriors _was_ true, then Ranma could become the most powerful martial artist in the world at the precocious age of twelve! A new milestone and award to place around the portly neck of Genma Saotome. Besides, the fat man could almost see cash some people would shell out for breeding rights to his son. The fact that he was thinking of his son as a prize-winning stud horse was lost on him, however.  
  
"C'mon Pops, it's really dark and scary in there, who knows what kinda snakes or spider or c-c-c-cats might be hiding in there?" The preteen squirmed in his father's grasp and tried to pull away as the larger man forced him forward.  
  
"Stop being such a wimp, Ranma! I thought I raised you better than to whine like a little girl!"  
  
"Hey! I ain't no girl, Pops, you take that back!" Genma chortled and looked down his nose at the diminutive figure of his son.  
  
"Well, prove you aren't then boy...get in there!" Genma picked up Ranma by the back of his gi and threw him far into the black depths of the cave. Bringing his hand up to his ear, the man didn't hear any sound which might have indicated a landing. "Boy?" He called, worrying about his own life should Nodoka get a hold of him, rather than that of his progeny. "Stop being a sissy and come out boy! It's getting cold out here!"  
  
---Later---  
  
Ranma awoke to the sight of a naked girl with pale-green skin bouncing on him. The girl was smiling and obviously enjoying herself but stopped as he began to rise. She toppled off and drew a hand to her mouth in embarrassment and fear. Ranma looked at his surroundings, a soft forest glen with a crystal clear lake beside him, green grass as far as the eye could see, and a naked girl with pointed ears and green skin wrapped around his legs.  
  
"Where'm I? What's happenin?" Ranma groggily rubbed his sore head and tried to file all the information he was receiving from the land. A yellow sun blared down on him from the centre of the sky and he rubbed his eyes against its glare. While he was engrossed in the motions, the nymph began to remount him, entwining her legs with his and pushing his unruly top-half back down to the soft, cold, grass with a thud. "Ow!? Whaddaya do that for!?" He rubbed his bruised head once again as the girl piled plucked strands of green grass on his chest before laying her head down upon the bed of foliage. "What're ya doin'?"  
  
The girl answered by pushing her hand into his face, her fingers simultaneously going into his mouth and nostrils.  
  
"Be quiet, bed, Ceoeff wants to sleep!" She managed to intone from between the leaves of grass. He could see a smile on her lips as began to drift off into dreams.  
  
"Get off me! Ya crazy person, I ain't no bed for no whacked out chick!" He pushed himself upright from the ground and rolled her to the side. She seemed to take this as a kind of game and continued rolling down the gently descending hillock towards a placid lake. Ranma noticed her destination and sprang up with a start. "Hey wait just a minute! I don't even know yer name!" So began the chase down the hill. He leapt quickly halfway down to catch her but instead of being caught she rolled off to the side and lay on her stomach with her head resting on her palms. She was staring intently at him.  
  
"Merac told me it was fun, so Ceoeff did it." The girl rolled over onto her back and stretched out on the grass. Ranma shook the debris out of his hair and waved a fist in her direction.  
  
"I'm not a bed ya crazy chick! And who's Merac?" He suddenly seemed at a loss for words, looking curiously up at the bright azure sky. Ceoeff casually began eating the grass around her in boredom.  
  
"The nymph that lives in that lake over there. She's Ceoeff's best friend. She told Ceoeff you were squishy. Who are you?" She smiled as she asked, the picture of naivete. All in all it came across rather strangely as her smile was covered in grass pieces.  
  
"I'm not a bed, that's fer sure!" He blushed at her nudity and bowed to the nymph, pointedly looking away. "I'm Ranma Saotome of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts!" He stated with flourish and pride. He was placating as he spoke and bowed multiple times, hoping that his declaration would convince the girl he wasn't a bed, and impress her, not to mention ease her forgiveness for seeing her naked. She stopped chewing on the grass and rolled over on her side, stretching her right arm up across the blanket of leaves and waved.  
  
"This is Ceoeff," she pointed to herself, "Ceoeff is a dryad." She got up and began to walk away into the glade.  
  
"Wait! Can ya tell me where I am?" he began to follow her, but only ended up running smack into a tree as she merged with the forest. As he fell back to the ground and cursed her loudly while holding his bleeding nose, her petite head of mossy-looking short hair emerged once more from the bark.  
  
"You're in Ceoeff's backyard, Ranma-bed, now it's time to sleep." With that her head disappeared once more into the solid trunk of the tree. Ranma stood there for a good fifteen minutes staring at the tree before he kicked it's roots angrily and stalked back to his indentation back at the top of the hill.  
  
"What the heck've ya done now, Pops?"  
  
---Elsewhere---  
  
Sidhe was fey, naturally, and he ruled over his lands with a fist of bloodshed, war, and terror. The Lord Typhon Sidhe was an old ruler, perhaps the oldest on the continent and had been trouble for his neighbors for centuries. Always waging war on the Landrians or the Dukedom, either that or causing petty squabbling among the rabble in his domain so he could ride forth and kill something that would fight back. Yes, in all regards a cold example of life and the dark excesses a soul, even one of the blessed, could sink to when one had the promise of immortality. As fey, the Crimson Warlord, as they called him, could expect to live numerous lifetimes of men and not age.  
  
Thus is came as no surprise that assassination plots flourished under his reign, for what man would want to live if he were doomed to spend the rest of his days under the heel of a despotic murderer? Typhon was an imposing fey, glowing green at times when he was either in the throes of passion with one of his slaves or consumed by bloodlust on the field of battle. At those times the officers or servants around him could feel the flows of life pound in his veins for the briefest of moments. He was tall and reasonably slim with a crop of short gray hair and a clean-shaven face. His cheeks were set high and poked from beneath the skin of his face like mountains threatening to burst through the crust of the earth. Eyes of the darkest obsidian glinted from beneath thick gray brows furrowed in rage or calculation. These features, as unattractive as they may seem individually, together formed a rather handsome man of indiscriminant age, dressed in black with silver finery.  
  
After seven thousand years of overrunning countries and killing neighbors, Sidhe was faced with the insurmountable walls of the Dukedom, the Empire, and Lan-Dria (1). For they were lands of governments twice as old as he and powerful in resources and technology, it was said that he three opponents had powers of magic greater than the Crimson Warlord himself. Thus, until such a time as his general Toh Gerabeve could construct a viable attack plan against the three world powers, Typhon busied himself slaying peasants, raping servants, and conjuring.  
  
Yes, conjuring, a science that has its positive and negative elements. Sidhe used his fey powers of magic to conjure creatures from other regions of the world for sport. He could conjure an Ifrit (2) from the darkened halls of subterranean Eblis to do battle with, a pastime he rather enjoyed, or take snow tigers or spugorths or lachta (3). He lived for the thrill of the kill, that last blow against a powerful and cunning enemy, and practiced conjuring often when he was bored. However, there was an even darker side to his magic.  
  
Conjuring vicious wild animals was one thing, conjuring living, thinking beings such as nymphs, dryads, and fairies was completely different. Typhon took great pleasure in capturing a young nymph and raping her all night long, debasing and defiling her until nothing but a vegetable or husk of anima was left. His dungeons were filled with poor recipients of his foul lust, ruined creatures left to starve. He took delight in their mews of pain and slapped them to hear them scream as he rutted, often taking his sword to them and dismembering them as he finished.  
  
Above all his rapes and killing was his wife. It may seem odd that such an untouchable and base villain would be able to find any to marry him, but Typhon was not always so. Centuries before he came into power and let the cavalier regard for life twist his natural fey goodness into ebony shackles of evil, he married another of his kind. Her name was Leannan, a proud and beautiful fey of the sea element. As he grew in warmongering and pride, their love diminished but was never extinguished. At the beginning of his fall, the Crimson Sidhe bound their fey powers, ensuring she could never rebel or act against him. At the time it had seemed harmless and she might have treated it as a sign of his gentle paranoia but it quickly grew as he became darker. She learned to resent him, as far as the enchantment would allow, and became cold to the touch.  
  
And so it came to be that Typhon lost much conscious control over his fey powers.  
  
Now all was in readiness. Sidhe sat cross-legged in his basement sanctum, nude, and prepared to conjure a nymph for his uses that night. Undressed as he was three things remained on his body, his fey focus in the shape of an earring on his right ear, a wide black bracer affixed to his right wrist, and a thick necklace of ivory and steel which held the key to unlock his sanctum spells. Scars ran down his body every-which way and a tattoo of the Druidic eye was visible on his back between his shoulder blades. The red eye seemed to blink sideways as the muscles shifted under the skin.  
  
Speaking in the tongue of the Warlords (4), he joined his hands thumbs to forefingers and saw the target area through the square area created. There were three nymphs frolicking in a forest clearing with a sparda. They appeared to be no older than twelve seasons each...which would ensure a tight fit. Licking his lips the monstrous Lord began the incantation.  
  
---The Lapis wood---  
  
Ranma really didn't know what to do. Here he was, stuck in a weird place with these three naked girls bouncing up and down and rolling around. One thing was for sure...their antics were making him very nervous.  
  
"Ranma-bed come here! Ceoeff wants to show him something!" The green-skinned dryad beckoned to him from behind a thick segment of brush while the other two, Hiwt and Merac, pranced about under the open canopy of stars. With absolutely no way of getting back to wherever he and Pops had been and having no eaten anything that day Ranma hoped that the girl had food.  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming..." He parted the foliage and started scratching an itch at the base of his neck where he'd suffered a large scar from Genma's botched attempt at the neko-ken. Funny, that, it usually only started itching when he was...! "C-c-c-c-c-c-c-CATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
On the other side was a sparda, a type of wild cat found in the lapis woods and in various climes across the world. Frequently taken as pets and domesticated there were still several breeds that remained exclusively feral including the one that Ceoeff was playing with at the moment. It was the size of a mountain lion with sleek shanks and very short fur except around the neck and tail. It had a shaggy but short mane like a lion and its tail was puffy; however, its claws were massive. If extracted, the full curved blade would measure seven inches in length. Also, they were not retractable like a house-cat's, rather they stuck out of the paw like vicious ginzu knives and scored the ground they walked on...not exactly a great pet to show one with cat problems.  
  
"Isn't he great? Ceoeff found him in the forest last week!" Ranma was too overtaken by fear to answer. "What's wrong?"  
  
"...cat...cat...nice kitty...you don't want to eat me do ya?" Ranma's eyes were clenched shut as the dryad motioned for the animal to move closer. She thought that Ranma was trying to play a joke...  
  
The sparda could sense that this being was afraid of it...terrified even! In a gesture of reassurance she padded over to the paralyzed boy and sniffed his clothes before jumping up on her hind legs and licking his face. This was unfortunately the wrong thing to do in Ranma's case as the heavy weight of the cat atop him brought back horrifying memories of thousands of teeth and claws ripping into his skin in the darkness. When the rough edge of her tongue slid across his face, Ranma's only reaction was a meek whimper before darkness overtook him.  
  
Ceoeff was watching her friends play when Ranma stiffened suddenly and the great sparda jumped anxiously off his prone form. Sparda apparently felt the flood of animosity emanating from Ranma's feral cat state and sought to escape. In the scuffle between the nymph and the animal neither noticed a portal begin to form under the Ceoeff's feet until it was too late. Ranma jumped off his back and spun around, sniffing the air for the scent of his prey. He saw the two moving forms at the edge of the clearing and knew that one was the female cat. With a throaty growl he leapt at the two figures...  
  
---Sidhe's sanctum---  
  
Typhon could hardly wait to sink himself into the screaming tightness of the nymph, to rip apart her fragile membranes and let a puddle of blood from their union develop on the floor. His penis was already hard and throbbing with anticipation as he finished the incantation and the dark laboratory was bathed in harsh white light. He stood from the floor and checked the containment spells on the door, positive that no one but he could escape back into the castle. Turning back to the subsiding ethereal glow, he moved just in time to catch four ki claws as they sliced open his face.  
  
The cat was not amused. It had just caught the female when this new Alpha appeared in heat. Sniffing around the chamber when it first arrived, it found no trace of the female and so concluded that the usurping Alpha had taken her. The cat would teach other males not to fool around with his pack. As the blinding light diminished he swiped out with a paw, fully intent on punishing the supplanter for touching _his_ mates.  
  
Typhon reeled from the blow. It was the first true wound he'd received in all his life, the first true pain he had ever felt. He fell to the stones clutching his face, feeling the raw torn skin peel off in his hand as he tried to stop the flow of blood spilling out onto the floor. Naked and unarmed as he was, the sudden attack and pain of injury were enough to lock his mind and so it should come as no surprise that Sidhe never used one spell or weave of magic in self-defense. He was far too busy crawling across the floor pathetically while screaming in agony as sections of skin sloughed off his cheek bones.  
  
The cat could hear the Alpha's screams of pain and supplication but knew that examples had to be made. No male ever touched his females and lived to tell the tale. Stalking out of the summoning circle he growled at the retreating figure with his ki claws and fangs fully exposed, visible as iridescent versions of the real thing. A phantom tale swished in irritation as his opponent reached a wall and was unable to run any further. The cat tensed his jaw and paws for the next attack.  
  
It is very ironic that in a span of three minutes the high and mighty fey, Lord Typhon Sidhe, was reduced to bawling and pleading for his life naked and bloody. It is also ironic that his intuition for movement which had successfully dodged killing blows and secured his place among the finest duelists in the Four Kingdoms proved to be his ruination. Just as he turned to shove his back against the wall, blind as he was from the blood running into his eyes, Ranma's claw came down his exposed midsection. Searing pain flared as more crimson cascaded down his body. The blow had nearly severed his manhood as well but amidst the pain and instinct for self-preservation he did not know that fact...yet.  
  
The cat knew the Alpha would never sire any children by any female and was slightly satisfied by that knowledge. Growling came bubbling up from his diaphragm and his breath seemed to steam in the close quarters of the room.  
  
Typhon was barely lucid as the pain and blood-loss were beginning to draw a dark tarp over his thoughts and senses. The pain wasn't even that bad anymore he realized but he was having trouble feeling his limbs. Feeble bloody fingers traced down the deep gashes in his abdomen and trailed down to his penis which had been severed halfway off by a single ki claw and only needed his hand fondling down there to tear itself completely off his body. If Typhon knew this he would have screamed but as it was, he was aware of very little.  
  
It was time to finish it.  
  
The great Cat pounced on the prone and dying body and began to tear into it with claws and fangs. The abdomen opened on its ribs as if on hinges and the heart, lungs, and stomach spilled out onto the floor. A jaw capable of crushing steel girders clamped down on a length of intestine and ripped it clean out of the body. Acting like a feral animal the cat used both front paws in turns to hollow out the torso of its victim before moving upwards to the head. Opening wide its maw the animal's bottom incisors punctured Typhon's closed eyes and moved past them into the brain as the two top teeth split the back of the skull. Hefting the hollow carcass by the head, the cat thrashed the body back and forth vigorously splattering blood and other fluids across the conjuring room. One selective bite tore off the whole left side of Sidhe's face. It was odd and horrifying that even in death Typhon's face still held the smug smirk it wore in life. The effect was completely lost, however, by the fact that he was missing half his face.  
  
---To be continued (maybe)---  
  
I've decided to rewrite 'The Wandering Saotome' since I seem to have written myself into a corner with the original and find I don't want to finish that version. This version will eventually move to Phoenix Mountain and familiar characters will appear but that will happen later. In case anyone doesn't see the similarity, I've taken inspiration for this rewrite from The Grum's 'Chains' series, and Arun's 'Destiny'. Both of which are truly great and inspirational works. I'm going to use the basic setup from 'Chains', meaning Ranma will inherit a kingdom by the death of Typhon but the next chapter will have vast differences (as if the violence and setup for Teh Sthlhu weren't enough of a deviation for those who would cry 'plagiarist!'). This rewrite will only continue if people have positive comments and opinions of it, otherwise I have twenty-four parts of 'The 1/2 Saga' to get through.  
  
Questions? Comments? Concerns?  
Email me!  
  
Skaiton@netscape.net  
  
-Notes:  
(1) The Four Kingdoms are: The Dukedom of Ly-Donia, The Teh Sthlhu Empire, The Imperial Republic of Lan-Dria, and the Allied Nations of Siler. Typhon Sidhe's kingdom lies on the border of the Dukedom and the Empire. The Dukedom is governed by Duke Rwedad Lydonia who, despite the title, is a constitutional monarch. Teh Sthlhu is ruled by Emperor Maximillian Falcore and is the youngest of the four kingdoms even though it is also the most powerful. The Republic is ruled by the dictator Lames Geste and occupies the most land but is politically fragile. The Allied Nations are a composed of thirty smaller nations across the Eastern Ocean under the elected official Chairman Siler.  
(2) An Ifrit is a spirit that makes its body out of fire. They can withstand enormous temperatures and are physically hardy. They are so notoriously difficult to defeat that in Teh Sthlhu 'Ifrit' is synonymous with 'tenacious'.  
(3) Typical beings that haunt old, broken down places. Equivalent to gigantic silverfish and spiders.  
(4) Typhon is speaking the chants of the Druidic Warlords, the original rulers of Teh Sthlhu before the Emperor Maximillian deposed them. The fact that Sidhe wears the tattoo of the Warlords indicates he once was of Warlord Status magically. 


	2. Chapter One

---Disclaimer---  
  
Ranma 1/2 and all its associated characters and locations are used without permission and belong to their respective copyright holders. Anything else (Teh Sthlhu, The Four Empires, Typhon Sidhe, Leannan Sidhe, Ceoeff, Merac, Hiwt, etc.) is owned by me. So there! ^_^  
  
---Title---  
  
Wanderings: Chapter One  
(Rewrite of The Wandering Saotome)  
A Ranma 1/2 Altaverse  
By Dr. Suekeiichi Kaiton  
(Skaiton@netscape.net)  
  
---  
  
"...And out of Darkness came Light;  
A warrior of might midst the plight;  
'Round his head was a crown  
Made of purest gold,  
And polished like mirror-glass.  
(Or so I've been told)  
He rode on a ship high in the sky,  
And there was no wave he could not ply,  
Onward he rushed to his Doom.  
  
The Enemy did turn  
And cowered like a worm  
As the King returned to the place of his birth.  
For through Death and hardship he'd proved  
His honor,  
And courage,  
And worth.  
  
High in the hills,  
And low in the seas  
Did their battle rage on  
'Till all their strength had been gutted and gone.  
Out of the sea he did rise,  
Sun on his shoulders,  
And Stars in his eyes.  
He had dispelled the gloom."  
- From the 'Warrior' manuscript  
  
---Sidhe Kingdom, Western Lands---  
  
It was past noon before anyone in the palace thought something may be wrong with the lord. Maids had set out a glorious spread of food for his morning repast, as he typically was quite hungry after a night of orgiastic dalliance, and specifically remembered not to wear any undergarments. This was in the event that Lord Typhon's lust had not been adequately slaked by his conjuration the previous night. The assortment of servants and concubines stayed by the table for three hours past the morning, periodically cycling the food as it grew cold, but no sign of the tall warlord could be found. By the eleventh bell, the maids had cleared away the food and rumors began to circulate on the mystery of the Lord's behavior. It was when a servant came to the Mistress's suites to see if he was there, that the Lady Leannan took notice of her husband's disappearance.  
  
With no other leads to his whereabouts, the Lady Sidhe found herself walking down the winding staircase to his conjuring room and inner sanctum deep below the palace. It was the last place she'd have willingly gone in search for her 'darling' husband but she knew, just as did virtually everyone else in the palace, that without his merciless tactics and iron will the lands under his control would rebel within hours. Unfortunately, his ruthlessness was a necessary evil in the workings of state. Thus, swallowing her pride, Leannan opened the meters-thick stone door to the sanctum.  
  
The scene that met her eyes was one of startling normalcy. The sanctum was intact save for a few scratches on the floor and a few remnants of blood from his no-doubt violent coupling the previous night. As for her husband, his naked body was rolled on its side by the conjuration circle, the red eye facing her from between his shoulder-blades. The racks of chemicals and mystical items were undisturbed, as were his bookshelves and desk. Nothing was wrong physically with the room.  
  
Crossing to Typhon's body, she found it looked slightly different, as if it had regained the past few decades worth of age. His hair was of a substantially darker hue and his skin appeared less sallow and thin but other than those superficial changes he looked the same. Rolling him onto his back she noticed numerous shards of bone littering the area around him, none bigger than perhaps three centimeters. Concluding that he had taken a midnight repast, she swept the fragments into the glowing indentations in the floor and inspected his form.  
  
Something was definitely wrong with Typhon Sidhe she concluded after a careful examination of the man's sleeping form. The body was exactly the same, right down to the earring, bracer and necklace. The scars were in the same places she remembered, even the thin line of white tissue on the underside of his penis she'd made the first time he'd asked her to perform fellatio. Even though all the evidence confirmed that this was indeed her lord, something was off with his aura and power levels; they kept shifting from one extreme to the next. However, other than his younger appearance, Leannan could find no outside reason for her intuition.  
  
There was one way to find out for sure, but she did not welcome it because it would require her to come into direct mental contact with the slimy essence of her husband. Still, it would solve one or two of the mysteries surrounding his behavior and aural patterns. Still, with his mind numb to the outside world, it left her free to take her pleasure from his insensate but fully functional body. Licking her lips in anticipation of the reward she had so justly deserved the past few months, she too disrobed and mounted her tyrant of a husband.  
  
Several moments and several climaxes later, Leannan Sidhe was prepared to join minds with Typhon by way of her fey bondage. Lying naked atop her husband, she clutched his head in her hands and, with equal amounts of trepidation and distaste, brought their foreheads together. By his forced bond their minds became one in that brief flash of memory and emotion and Lady Sidhe was cast adrift in Typhon's mind until grabbing hold of an anchor in the form of her own memories. By grasping hold of that which indiscriminately identifies herself as a distinct being from the mindscape swirling around her, she effectively by-passed all of his mental barriers and entered his psyche. Due to the closeness of the contact and the ability to know many things about one another that they would rather keep private, neither had instigated such a connection for the past hundred years.  
  
Then, as her self solidified in his mind, her feet met glowing marble and she touched down in what could only be described as a Palace of Mind. The place, wherever it existed, was bright with the sunlight streaming through a packet of dense clouds and there was the pleasant babble of running water off in the distance. Leannan appreciated the landscape and the chamber or temple since the structure was open to the wind if such things as environment could be said to exist within the mind, yet was distrustful because she would meet her betrothed. The loathing in her soul for the creature that took shape as her husband was limitless but superficially her mind must love the degenerate that killed and raped under the guise of Lordship.  
  
She turned to the doorway where he always seemed to appear, the doorway into his mind, but nothing entered save the echoes of a great battle waged. Running to the space as a shimmering sundress appeared around her nudity, she ran through the wavering mirror of obsidian and into Typhon's mind where the darkest creatures dwelt. Instead of the dangerous and deadly swampland and desert of his consciousness what she found gave her pause. Pause and hope deep within her breast.  
  
The room appeared to be round in shape with a ceiling open to the night sky as stars reflected their pale light upon the glass floor of the dais. Underneath the glass, blackness wavered and slathered for meat as a duel took place atop the highest steps. Within the sparkling impossibility of the chamber, the Lady Sidhe walked crisply up the flowing glass of the steps and was able at last to confirm the distant hope that had kindled fire in her heart. In the centre was a naked body, the body of Typhon Sidhe, The Crimson Warlord, The Fey Warlord, also known as The Crimson Eye. The body was shifting in appearance from the old and repulsive Typhon to the younger variant she had witnessed in the sanctum, the change in cheek-bones and hair color enough to accurately mirror the terrific battle taking place before the blank, open eyes of the corpse.  
  
As she observed it, there were two human shaped clouds of light battling for supremacy and, as each gained the upper hand, the appearance of the body would shift. As near as she could tell on the left was Typhon Sidhe, tall and proud even if only a jumble of light and smoke, and on the right fought a figure too small to be adult yet too powerful to be child. As she watched Typhon manifested his Sword of Souls, a relic of the Warlord Age, and ran at his diminutive opponent with the weapon jutting from his hip in proper form. However, the shorter 'soul' was too spry and leapt over his attack, executing a powerful kick to the back of the neck which would have killed the fey if he were still alive and of physical form. Typhon slashed randomly at the darting figure but his opponent was wise to the way of swords and stopped an over-head slice with a barehanded block, clapping his hands over the middle of the blade and snapping it in two. The taller spirit tossed the weapon aside and they resumed their starting positions.  
  
It was then that she approached the battlefield. Walking over the moving sky as it was reflected off the rushing waters, she stood between the two and put her arms out to ward them off one another. Both figures stopped as she came into view and hesitantly strolled to her so that they were all gathered around the deathly pale body that they strove for, yet could not attain.  
  
"Ah, Leannan! Excellent work, love, once we dispose of this usurper I can return to my body proper." Typhon's voice was radiating from the churning, rolling cloud form at the centre of his ghostly outline. There were no features on his 'body', it remained a faceless and neutral representation of a soul with enough substance to battle with the other. "Let us make all haste! I have eaten not a bite since last yesterday afternoon...at least I believe it was yesterday. No matter, once I regain control we can return to reality."  
  
The Lady broke her glance from his soul and turned to the other. "This I would gladly do, my Lord Typhon yet I wish to know what manner of opponent can so perplex my master." She knelt by the short figure and placed her 'hands' on his shoulders. "Who may you be, wanderer?"  
  
"I'm Ranma Saotome of the Saotome School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts!"  
  
"That is a name unfamiliar to me, wanderer, and a title I have heard not. What is your age?" The figure's silhouette looked down at the rolling starscape.  
  
"I'm twelve years old."   
  
"Only twelve? How did you defeat that man over there last night?"  
  
"Last night? All I remember 'bout last night was seein' a big c-c-c-c-c-cat...whew...and goin' into the Neko-Ken." Ranma's soul grew green and despondent as he spoke the last.  
  
"What is the Neko-Ken, Ranma? I have never heard of such an attack." Leannan stood patiently as the boy detailed what the technique was capable of and how it was triggered, her eyes growing bigger at each new piece of information. "I see..."  
  
"Nice Lady?" He pointed at Typhon. "Can ya tell the jackass over there ta stop tryin' ta kill me? I don't know what his problem is!" Leannan stood again and crossed to her husband.  
  
"What happened? The boy is only twelve, my Lord, how could he have slipped through your mental barriers?"  
  
"Last night I accidentally conjured him from the Lapis Woods of Teh Sthlhu, crazy he was I tell you, he cut my body to ribbons and _ate_ me. He ate my body whole! There must be a spell placed on him for I could erect no defense against his assault." The shards of bone lying around his body in the sanctum must have been from Typhon's old body, the body the 'Ranma' must have ingested.  
  
The situation was all starting to come together in Leannan's mind as Typhon and Ranma's accounts filled in many gaps. From how she understood it, Ranma was under an enchantment called the 'Neko-Ken' that turned him into a sparda and as he was chasing after a female sparda was transported to Typhon's sanctum. Taking the conjuration as a form of encroachment on his control of the female, he attacked the 'Alpha' male that Typhon represented in power levels. Once he had emasculated and consumed his fallen opponent he ate the rest of him, incidentally swallowing and digesting Typhon's fey focus, necklace, and bracer. Once the digestion process was complete Ranma's body became Lord Sidhe under the power of the focus and jeweled bracer. As it stood then, Typhon's spirit was trapped inside Ranma's transformed body and was fighting for control.  
  
That proved to be the most interesting point for Leannan as it explained exactly why she was feeling such hatred and revulsion for Typhon's very existence, neither spirit was in control yet so the compulsion to love her Lord had not yet settled upon either. After that revelation her path was clear.  
  
"My Lord Typhon, perhaps I can yet persuade the youth to depart. Allow me the chance?" She watched as his soul's color turned from its usual red to an oily green as her opinion of him decreased. At least her plan was working. Turned back to Ranma as he lay on the floor of the metaphysical battlefield, limbs akimbo, she pulled him in close to her breast and held him fast, whispering her plans in his ear under the guise of comforting nothings.  
  
"Enough coddling, woman! He must face his erasure like a man!" Typhon barely waited until she was out of the way before he rushed in with another sword, preparing to strike down the youth before he could react.  
  
Ranma, however, was in no mood for game any longer, not after what Leannan had told him of Typhon's unsavory habits and cruelty. He waited until Typhon was fully devoted to his attack and unable to block or avoid before he brought his hands up. Typhon, interpreting the gesture as a plea for peace and mercy, howled as he raised the blade for the deathblow...  
  
Time stopped.  
  
The sword clattered to the glass floor of the 'room' from numb fingers. He looked down at the jagged piece of steel jutting grotesquely from his chest and could feel the burning metal inching upwards against the thin membranes holding his lungs together with each breath. The strike itself had shattered his sternum from which the blade projected and buried itself as far as his spine. No sooner had the blow been dealt then his body came into being, looking every bit as depraved in death as he had been in life. Blood was beginning to bubble up his throat.  
  
"How...?" He fell to his knees. "How did this...child...get the better of me? Me!"  
  
"You have grown too fat and confidant, 'Lord' Typhon. You failed to realize that because of this split in your mind, your spells of compulsion have been neutralized." The Lady strolled up to his side and stabbed him between the ribs, a hateful rictus twisting the beautiful features of her face. "You will pay for what you have done to me, Typhon, in death you shall suffer."  
  
"That's for all the kids ya killed!" Ranma spat in Typhon's face as he fell flat on his stomach and thrust the mortal blade right through him, shearing his spinal cord in half.  
  
"I see, Leannan, you have allied yourself with this brat in order to overthrown my kingdom yet you will fail."  
  
"Do not flatter yourself, Typhon, I did this because you are no longer the man I agreed to marry so many ages ago. Fair thee well in the depths of perdition." She kissed him one final time on the lips and he died. An anti-climactic and pathetic death for a man who deserved no better, she thought as she wrapped an arm around Ranma's shoulder and lead him to the corpse whose features showed youth and vigor, kindness and wisdom.  
  
"What happens now, Nice Lady?" Ranma felt comforted when she held him, she was warm and caring like Mother. "Do I get to go home yet?"  
  
"Not yet, young Ranma, for there are still many things you have to do in this world." She knelt before him again and felt the compulsion begin to take effect. "When you wake up in reality, you will not be a little boy. When you wake up you will be all grown up."  
  
"Yeah! I wanna grow up so I can be strong and protect the weak! Pops always told me it was a martial artist's duty to protect those weaker." There was a sparkling innocence in his eyes as he spoke, the charm of childhood that Leannan feared would all but disappear when he awoke. When they returned he would be in the grown body of Typhon and have the knowledge and powers of the fey by virtue of the earring; in fact, Ranma would be a more powerful fey than Typhon ever was due to the mingling of his power with Leannan's. He would be, for all intents and purposes, Typhon free of the detritus of his mind.  
  
"Your father was right, Ranma, it is important to fight for those who cannot defend themselves! It is important to preserve righteousness wherever one finds it! Remember these things when you awake, Ranma, and the world will become a better place with you in it...trust me."  
  
"Okay, Nice Lady!" Ranma smiled at her then, a genuine smile, and hugged her as hard as he could. "I love you, Nice Lady, you're just like Mom." She kissed him on the forehead and smiled when he giggled and tried to wipe it off, saddened by the loss of his childhood she began to cry. Ranma, noticing that his comforter was crying, caught three tears in his hand and unconsciously froze them to glass with his powers. "Don't cry...here." He held out the gift on a silver chain.  
  
"Thank you, Ranma, but it is almost time for you to go." She took the pendant of tears and held his tiny hand in hers before they parted. "Go now." She stood and began to walk back to the doorway back to the Palace of Memory, purposefully not looking back as the child Ranma was destroyed forever, the last death caused by Lord Typhon Sidhe.  
  
No sooner had she left the mind of her lover then she fell to the polished floor of the sparkling realm and began to weep. Her arms fell to the marble and they made streaking noises as she pulled them back as she curled into a ball and wept for the murder she had just committed. It had been a murder of love, a killing premeditated three hundred years in the past as the last vestiges of the man she loved evaporated into the cloud of evil that consumed them both.  
  
---To be continued---  
  
I thought I'd make this chapter a bit shorter because I don't want to write a scene break and only have a few pages to do what I want. I'll keep these chapters rather short until we come to the real body of the story, the Phoenix, Amazon, return to Earth, etc. I hope that this chapter diverged enough from Grum's 'Chains' for everyone, I bet none of you saw the appearance of an adult Ranma in the future. Yes, Ranma will be thrust into a series of events he has no understanding of as Leannan leads him through the proper etiquette and procedure for ruling his kingdom. Due to the synergy of Typhon and Ranma in the same body mixed liberally with fey magic, Ranma will have more mastery over the fey abilities than Typhon ever had and put them to good use. I decent length of time will pass between the events of this chapter and the next as we pick up with Ranma as he tries to negotiate a lasting peace with his neighbors. Long live the King! The Crimson Warlord! Ranma Typhon Sidhe! 


	3. Chapter Two

---Disclaimer---  
  
Ranma 1/2 and all its associated characters and locations are used without permission and belong to their respective copyright holders. Anything else (Teh Sthlhu, The Four Empires, Typhon Sidhe, Leannan Sidhe, Ceoeff, Merac, Hiwt, etc.) is owned by me. So there! ^_^  
  
---Title---  
  
Wanderings: Chapter Two  
(Rewrite of The Wandering Saotome)  
A Ranma 1/2 Altaverse  
By Dr. Suekeiichi Kaiton  
(Skaiton@netscape.net)  
  
---  
  
"...And out of Darkness came Light;  
A warrior of might midst the plight;  
'Round his head was a crown  
Made of purest gold,  
And polished like mirror-glass.  
(Or so I've been told)  
He rode on a ship high in the sky,  
And there was no wave he could not ply,  
Onward he rushed to his Doom.  
  
The Enemy did turn  
And cowered like a worm  
As the King returned to the place of his birth.  
For through Death and hardship he'd proved  
His honor,  
And courage,  
And worth.  
  
High in the hills,  
And low in the seas  
Did their battle rage on  
'Till all their strength had been gutted and gone.  
Out of the sea he did rise,  
Sun on his shoulders,  
And Stars in his eyes.  
He had dispelled the gloom."  
- From the 'Warrior' manuscript  
  
---Mountain of Fire, Teh Sthlhu---  
  
"This agreement of yours, Lord Sidhe, surely you must be joking." Seumethpro, King of Fire Mountain, lounged in his throne at the Lord Typhon and his entourage. To think that he had allowed the Warlord that close to him and his seat of operations, what was he, insane? The Warlord was notorious for feigning peace only as an excuse to draw close enough to draw blood. The Harpy King felt his abdominal muscles tense involuntarily.  
  
"It is no joke, my dear Lord Seumethpro. My Lord Typhon has undergone a slight...change...that has brought about this reconciliation. He wishes to extend to you, the Harpy Nation (1), a hand of peace so that the Lan-Drian forces do not overrun your lands." Chamberlain Choiler spoke from the raised audience platform. Behind him stood the dread lord himself, silent and enigmatic.  
  
"And what assurances do I receive that this is not all a ruse? A ploy to divert my attention and allow 'Lord Typhon' leave to overtake my people?" Seumethpro was no fool, Sidhe had used a similar tactic when he overthrew the Beast-men of Gargarotha, and nothing remained of that nation save the ruined Caverns of Pain in the western mountains. "Tell me what Typhon will give me if I acquiesce?"  
  
Choiler, a normal man with the braised gold skin of the Desert Kingdom of Neir, turned to his lord and they conferred for several moments as the Harpy King clicked his talons on the gold armrest in irritation. If Typhon was going to attack, would he just get on with it? The waiting was eating away at his composure and patience. Still, as he looked upon the Fey Lord, there was something odd about his appearance, almost as if he had mystically grown younger. It was patently ridiculous, it could have been a simple glamour, but something around the eyes screamed wrong. No, it was all in his imagination. Lord Typhon Sidhe still retained all the evidence of his identity, the bracer, earring, and necklace.  
  
"The Lord Sidhe offers you twenty of his children to train and maintain your armies. They are all masters of Warcraft and will follow my master's will if it be in your defense."  
  
"I see..." Seumethpro scratched the stubble of his chin-feathers as he thought about the grand ramifications of such an offer. True, Typhon had many children, close to a thousand around the world if the rumors were to be believed, but if Seumethpro were to _marry_ a daughter...well, Typhon would be forced to aid him. The bonds forged by blood were always stronger than flimsy and combustible paper, after all. "And will these children be male and female? His sons and daughters?"  
  
"Yes. My Lord Ranma will deliver unto your Mountain the eldest twenty, half sons, half daughters, within the night if you will agree to the Peace accord." Ah yes, Typhon had announced his first name scant weeks ago, perhaps in anticipation of these peace talks. It was perfectly acceptable to reinvent one's-self before changing one's political policy. Doubt hovered over the brow of the feathered harpy, doubt for the future of his people under the assault of Lan-Dria, and doubt of Typhon's good word. In the end, as he sat upon his throne, Seumethpro found he had no choice at all.  
  
"Very well, Lord Chamberlain, bring forth the accord." The tall man of sleek black hair and darkened skin took the sheets of pure paper from an adjacent clerk and affixed them to boards of enchanted leather that assured both parties that the document would not rot, wither, or burn to dispel their agreement. Choiler carried the boards up the steep steps to Seumethpro's throne and knelt so that the Harpy King could affix his seal. With the burn of the King's ring the peace accord was ratified and accepted. Scampering back down he knelt likewise for his lord and Typhon pressed his index finger to the sheets of parchment.  
  
It was no surprise that when he received his copy, the King of Fire Mountain found the Eye of Sidhe neatly embedded in the fibers. There was no indentation of stamp nor elevation to denote ink. He smiled slightly at Sidhe's obscene show of power before handing the accord to his chamberlain for processing.  
  
"I will expect the agreed number tonight." No sooner had the feathered king opened his mouth then he spied a smug smile upon Sidhe's lips and knew he had been duped.  
  
"I believe I will make an amendment to the agreement, King Seumethpro." The guards lining the audience chamber tensed and drew their swords. They had already been nervous of these outsiders but Typhon's outright audacity to change a signed document was enough for them to draw. If the Crimson Warlord was afraid of the harpy swordsmen he gave no sign. "Why not accept fifteen daughters and five sons?"  
  
"What do you mean? What is the meaning of this breach in contract?" Seumethpro was up and flying down to dais. "Explain yourself, Typhon."  
  
"It is quite simple, Lord of Fire Mountain." Ranma Sidhe stepped out from behind Choiler and stood toe-to-toe with the blistering Harpy. "Your women do not breed well, do they? No, I thought not. Take fifteen of my daughters then and increase your own strength, five of my sons will be enough to train an army of tens of thousands! Take the commodity you need from what I have no use for and further cement our bonds of loyalty. Of Friendship." Ranma's face betrayed no emotion as he held out his right hand to Seumethpro.  
  
The King glanced warily at the proffered hand. "Friendship?"  
  
"Friendship." Ranma Typhon Sidhe was gratified when the feathered talons of the King encircled his hand and shook it purposefully. At once the guards stood down. The two rulers shared a small smile.  
  
---En route to Sidhe castle---  
  
"That went well, lover." Ranma felt his 'wife's' hand in his head, groping around for the details of his recent victory. "I cannot say that I agree with your decision to use your children as bartering pawns but I cannot find fault in your actions."  
  
He was sitting in a sleek hovercraft given to him by the Emperor Maximillian Xiang of Teh Sthlhu after explaining the current situation of his mind and the plans to make amends. (2) As the ship rushed atop the long grass on the boarders of his realm he could not help but reflect upon the changes in the people since his 'reappearance'.  
  
It could be considered a philosophical question, what would the people do if, oppressed as they were, their oppressor suddenly freed their shackles and destroyed their yoke? Would they rebel and overthrow him for their years of servitude and slavery? Possible, considering that Typhon Sidhe had ruled the amalgam of lands in his keeping with an iron fist for the past hundred years (give or take). Instead of rebellion would there be an even greater devotion to he who freed them? Unlikely due to the deep-seated hatred of generations but unlikely and improbably things were always happening around Ranma.  
  
So it happened that the people experienced a burst of pro-Sidhe sentiment in the wake of his announcement of their freedom. The military was strengthened in morale as he began personally training the soldiers in the basics of Anything-Goes (a vestige of his previous life), and the people were thoroughly devoted to him especially after the floods Lan-Dria forced upon them the first week of his reign. Ranma still felt odd and uncomfortable walking and talking in his new body as his mind still had not finished the physical assimilation but these were easily traded with the burst of power the fey had bestowed upon him.  
  
He had powers that were beyond his understanding yet all were under his unconscious control. His Lady, the beautiful Leannan, was working with him on mastering the myriad spells and weaves that comprised the bulk of his magical power, but she hinted subtly at a deeper power underneath. Still, against the euphoria of the change he remained awkward in his movements if only in his mind and practiced such simple things and walking and running in the hopes of eventually overcoming such handicaps.  
  
"Are you asleep?"  
  
"No." He mentally responded through their bond. "I was merely thinking."  
  
"I hope you were thinking of ravishing me when you return to the castle because that is what I eagerly await." Her sultry drawl was even more passionate and sensual through their link as she sent emotions and impulses that triggered various parts of his mind.  
  
"I'm sorry, my Lady, but I am not ready for that yet...just give me more time." Choiler was sitting across from the King in the enclosed canopy of the swiftly-moving vehicle and wondered just what Ranma was whispering.  
  
"I have given you five weeks, Ranma. Surely you have felt my attraction through our bond?"  
  
"I have, although I am not prepared to act upon those feelings."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I have no idea what to do." He rested the back of his head against the seat and stared up at the quickly moving clouds hanging over the land. Imagine going through puberty in the span of three seconds, growing from a twelve-year old with no concept of the sensual to a man whose lusts were very much a part of his body. Never underestimate the power of the body over the mind, it is often an exaggerated point that the mind alters the body, those who enforce that dogma never met Ranma Sidhe.  
  
"I believe your education in that area is wanting, my Lord. Allow me to instruct you when you return, perhaps I may explain over your evening repast?"  
  
Ranma found himself speaking the words of Typhon's mind rather than the words he himself spoke. "I believe that is acceptable. I will be at the castle before nightfall." It was frightening to speak a phrase like 'okay, I guess so' and have it twisted by the tongue and lips into 'I agree in mind and body'. The whole interplay between he and the Harpy King back at the Mountain of Fire terrified him because he had no control over the mouth or voice as it spilled out. It was rather like being a passenger on a train that was fully automated going to a destination of your choice. He had no control over the speed or ride nor the horn but it was carrying him where he needed to go; according to Leannan those feelings would pass in a few more weeks as his mind absorbed more of what was Typhon Sidhe and acclimatized itself to the sensations.  
  
---The next morning---  
  
Ranma awoke to the sound of rustling bedclothes and the sighing yawn of Leannan as she stood from their bed wrapped in a deep purple robe. The past night had certainly been educational to say the least, with Ranma's prowess in marital affairs following the precedent set by his earlier abilities. He had found that as soon as a motion or action that Typhon had any experience in was begun the body would begin moving automatically. This was useful in such things as sword fighting where the knowledge bubbled up in his mind as soon as the blade was placed in his hands. The fact that the information opened in his mind like a book was advantageous for him, no sooner had Ranma begun 'reading' through the sword-fighting abilities and memories then he was adapting them for Anything-Goes and improving their each and defense. The original Typhon Sidhe was many things but an innovator was not among them.  
  
So it had occurred that as they began his lesson in her chambers last night, Typhon's mind had opened into a veritable sea of positions, techniques, methods, and movements. Typhon was well-known throughout the world for his sensual abilities which explained the proliferation of his children around the world, and indeed any woman would consider herself blessed to catch his eye. From that profound base of pleasuring techniques, Ranma, being the innovator and refiner that he was, sought to improve upon the original Sidhe's 'style' with explosive results. It was rather funny, however, that Ranma had compiled his list of modifications and in scant minutes after dinner was putting them to the test upon his very eager, _very_ willing subject. (3)  
  
He awoke quickly and opened his eyes immediately upon full realization that it was indeed morning. It was a welcome change for the displaced soul to not have to struggle with sleep any longer and waste time rising as it had on Earth but his behavior could also be traced to sleeping a full night and not pushing himself to exhaustion each day. He sat up mechanically and reached for the black silk robe he knew awaited him on the post of the bed by his head. Doffing the thin material he walked over to the bathroom that faced his side of the mattress and relieved himself, thankful that the facilities of Sidhe castle were much in line with those of modern Japan and China. In the deep recesses of Typhon's mind he remembered paying the Technology Guild a King's ransom for the installation of such facilities in the castle.  
  
A word should be said of Sidhe Castle itself as its unique infrastructure and location prove integral to the tale of Ranma Typhon Sidhe.  
  
Sidhe castle was constructed several thousand years ago atop the smoldering chasm of an inactive volcano. The volcano had been inactive for a hundred years before construction began so a dense, if not large, forest had sprung up at its base. A path was cut through the Slyvinia wood and a paved road set down to the base of the mountain so that when it was finished, the castle's flying bridge would be anchored to the ground of the path.  
  
After the preparations for construction and design were completed an entire face of the mountain was carved out and the castle built into the volcanic rock itself. As the magma and pressure increased their heat and gas was used to power the structure and therefore was allowed to vent naturally. The palace sat atop the boiling shaft that lead down to the molten core of the world and thus was a perfect energy collector for Typhon to use for refueling purposes. The palace had extensive tunnels and caverns built into the opposing side where his fleet of assault ships and transports were stored and refueled, ready at a moment's notice to launch and attack. A veritable fortress of rock, metal, and glass, the castle itself grew over the years until its fa 


End file.
